


A Riddle For Us

by Shamira_Cobblepot



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memories, Multi, Reminiscing, Riddles, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 11:30:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11289834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamira_Cobblepot/pseuds/Shamira_Cobblepot
Summary: After returning back home with his new army of freaks, Oswald once again encounters Edward and thus, the reminisce enrolls. During the process of taking a stroll, The Penguin discovers certain objects which cannot but deepen the thoughts overall.





	A Riddle For Us

“Hey Pengy, check it out-” Ivy’s childish manner of speaking was nothing but an addition to the overall _offense_ to Oswald.

“Do not. Call me. Pengy!” Oswald replied with a glare, attacking Ivy with a rude demeanor whilst staggering toward the direction where the television was. The woman reading the news mentioned someone named ‘The Riddler’ who was taken in by the GCPD while attempting to kidnap Mayor Aubrey James. Certain that it took no time for Oswald to recognize the face they had been showing on the inset, a picture of him; long before when he was _The Chief of Staff._

 “The Riddler.” Sarcasm and amusement filled in his scoff. “How long did he take to think about that one?”

 As if he had known all the way how Ed had struggled to find a good place along with a good name of his own…

 

        **_“There’s a question mark on your face.”_**

The voice of Victor Fries echoed back and forth inside his head as he lay under the soft, white sheets, accompanied with pillows under his head. The chilly wind hissed past the windows, interrupting his attempts to enjoy some rest. The little figure quivered, despite the warmth he was provided and yet, at the very same time, droplets of sweat rolled down his forehead, appeared like small beads over the surface under his nose. His breathing was quicker than usual – another bad dream. The Penguin furrowed, gulped even a few times before waking up with a jolt and gasp of terror. He looked around him and then at his abdomen: right where he was shot not so long ago.

He knew what was happening: the result of over thinking about that man; not that he did not do so now and then, but it was not like the others for the time being. In fact, this night was completely different for him. In his own mansion, he began to feel unwelcomed, uncared for. Even after all the rudeness and inconsiderateness shown by his step-mother and step-siblings more than a year ago when he stepped into this place for the very first time, accompanied by his father whom he discovered during one of the worst phases of his life; he did not feel this much unwelcomed, rather took everything for good. The emptiness inside him was stabbing over and over again and yet there was nothing he could do about. What could he, other than bearing and suffering? It’s not like he would now call his new members of his army to burn or freeze the hell out of this killer, it was just not right. Nothing was going right. Now that Edward being in police’s custody (at least that’s what they are all saying) it has become a lot more easy to locate him. Surely his old friend in the GCPD might be of some use. Although it would cost The Penguin quite an amount of time and energy blabbering and bargaining for the ‘Good Cop Jim’ would never make it easy for the two.

Oswald was certain; these are one of those plain, stupid lies made up by them all to confront the media as well as the citizens of Gotham. Of course Ed wasn’t in their custody; of course the puddle is much deeper than it looks like. And that is why; tomorrow is going to be a busy day for them all.

         But what is to happen once he’s got Ed in his clasp, what then? Of course he would rather stick to his first spoken words after regaining consciousness back at Ivy’s, but the question is, did he really want to do so…?

 

“Unfinished business, isn’t it, Ed?” He mumbled, as if addressing the imaginary figure of Edward standing in front of him. “We have some _unfinished business that needs to be resolved._ Oh don’t you worry, one way or another, I’m gonna find you, Edward Nygma. And then you’ll see how things go for you…”

 Nothing but small breaths and occasional sighs escaped and filed the air of the interior. He could hear the clock ticking on a distance; surely it was late, very late of him to stay awake. But we can never force our eyelids to shut up and lull ourselves to sleep, unless they themselves are up for it. Blinking a few times, Oswald waded through the sheets and then made his way out, almost sneaking like a brat who’s not supposed to loiter around at this hour of the night due to the restrain put on by his parents. But in this case, Penguin simply did not want others to wake up. Especially Victor who had been asleep in the refrigerator which was, by luck, spacey enough to hold him dressed in that suit of his.

 

“Pfft, what else have you done to my house during my absence, _Ed?”_ Oswald mumbled once again, staring at the big question mark over the painting. His structure in it was vague due to the insufficiency of light, but Edward’s face was visible for sure.

“Seems like you’ve been up to some mischief,” he remarked, looking at the paper cuttings scattered on the table as well as the other remnants of Ed’s works. “You sly fox, ruining my Empire and now en route of establishing yourself as _The Riddler.”_ Scoffing, Oswald shook his head. “But who’s the one to blame; it was my fault to-”

Oswald couldn’t speak further for at the precise moment his eyes caught sight of an object sticking to the wall amongst other newspaper cuttings. A sticky note that bore Edward’s handwriting and of course, a few words written in a crafty fashion. A riddle penned down by The Riddler himself.

**_Is this for me?_** Thought he, but smirking with sarcasm because he knew that it was not meant for him, but Ed himself. Or was it really for The Riddler’s sole self?

 “After all, you never knew I would come back from the dead. No one does… But you see, that’s what separates me from the others. I can wake up from my grave, even if it’s in the water, if I want to. _The Penguin always gets what he wants!”_ Oswald muttered to himself.

“Even you know what terrible mistake you have made, don’t you?” A chuckle escaped under his breath as he folded the piece of paper with much care, and instead of throwing it outside, despite how his grey eyes hovered at the half-closed window, he stored it in a pocket of his pajamas and once again, limped his way upstairs. After all, tomorrow _is_ going to be a new start in the quest of finishing the unfinished.

Ivy was turning and tossing in her sleep. Only for a brief moment did her eyelids open, accompanied with her furrowed eyebrows and squinty eyes as Pengy’s… Oswald’s voice reached her ears. Was he muttering something? Well, who cares? The Plant Lady turned to her side and went back to slumber once again whilst Penguin slowly crawled under the sheets in his bed once again. Exhaling ever so calm, Oswald muttered the word, the answer, and finally closed his eyes for the night.

 

**_“I can bring tears to your eyes; resurrect the dead, make you smile, and reverse time. I form in an instant but last a lifetime. What am I?”_ **

 

 

**-?- The End -?-**


End file.
